


32 Tacos And A Kiss

by Devral, SpiderKatana



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Deadpool in a Dress, Happy Ending, M/M, Peter Delivers Food, Pining Wade Wilson, Secret Identity, Tacos, Warning for strong language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devral/pseuds/Devral, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderKatana/pseuds/SpiderKatana
Summary: Wade develops a massive crush on his adorable delivery guy. It shouldn't have surprised him that he fell for the same person twice.AKA five times Wade tried to impress Peter Parker and the one time he realized he didn't have to.
Relationships: Deadpool/Spider-man, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 66
Kudos: 1407
Collections: Kudos folder





	32 Tacos And A Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! We've taken more time than we expected to finish this, but here it is! A cute 5+1 fic! 
> 
> Big thanks to ChickenGoesMoo for all the help brainstorming (we couldn't have done it without you) and to Heraz, our lovely Beta, for the editing! 
> 
> We hope you guys like it! 
> 
> Love, Katana.

# 1.

_The first time Deadpool met Peter Parker, he didn't know it was Peter Parker. The guy was just delivering Wade's food and happened to be the only delivery guy from the app so far to remember to get Wade's favorite salsa and he was really hot so Wade gave a generous tip and tried to look sexy. He may have failed but the guy smiled so Wade took it as a win._

Wade was channel surfing when the sound of a knock filtered through the door. It shocked him so much he actually _jumped_. He wasn't a jumpy person, but people didn't often show up at his place. He watched in annoyance as the remote that had been in his hand sailed through the air and landed on the floor a few feet away, the back popping off and sending the batteries skittering across the floor. 

[You called your favorite Mexican place for delivery, dumbass.]

{Oof. Wonder what poor schmuck they sent this time? Whaddaya bet they run screaming as soon as we open the door? Freddy Kreuger style.}

[20 bucks says trembling in silent terror before they spill the food all over the floor.]

{Hah! I’m gonna _wiiiiiin!_ The last three delivery people screamed.}

[The previous guy pissed himself. It was disgusting. And you keep winning because you think people will react like you did the first time he looked in a mirror. It's _cheating._ ]

{Pfffffft. Not cheating if it's true— _do I smell tacos!?_ Did we order tacos?} 

There was a long moment of quiet before another knock echoed across the living room and White sighed in frustration. [You _chose_ the food. Of course we ordered tacos, you fucking dimwit.] 

{HEY!} 

“Guys, shut up!" Wade growled, annoyance spreading under his skin. "Maybe this time whoever it is will just give us the food. You never know. Don’t you remember that one chick? A few months ago. She didn’t scream _or_ dump the food on the floor,” he grumbled, dragging himself off the couch and heading for the door with heavy, petulant footsteps.

[I do remember that one. She was apparently so traumatized she quit without even heading back to the store. We got a call about it from management.]

{Pretty sure they thought we killed her and dumped her body somewhere, they didn't deliver to us for _months!_ }

Stopping in front of the closed door, Wade scowled. Traumatizing one delivery person was better than traumatizing an entire restaurant, but he still hated how people always reacted when they saw his ever-shifting skin. It wasn’t so bad right now, with only a few red welts and the rest scarring. The chick who had been frozen in terror had gotten the full view of a Bad Skin Day™, with muscle and bone visible through flayed looking skin. But Wade had long since given up staying masked in his own apartment. It was stifling to begin with, and it _always_ made his skin worse if he didn’t let it breathe outside his leather suit every once in a while. It wasn't a _choice._

[Just get it over with already.]

{FOOOOOOOD!}

Another knock sounded on the door, louder this time. Wade sighed, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket and finally opening the door. Might as well make it is quick as possible. 

{Quick, painless— well. Maybe not, but who doesn't like a little—} 

[Insecurity.] 

{That's _not what I was going to say—_ }

Swinging the door open, Wade offered a bright smile to the man on the other side. The man blinked at him once, the surprised silence stretching awkwardly between them. Shockingly, there didn’t seem to be any horror or disgust painting his face.

 _{Aaaaawww!_ He’s just the cutest little puppy, look at him, adorable! Pretty babe—}

[What was that about screaming, again?]

{Let me have fun for _once in my life_ , you shit—}

The man breathed in slowly and then gave Wade the brightest smile he'd ever seen on any delivery person and said, "Thank you for ordering from _La Casa Morada_ , we are pleased to serve you and happy you've chosen us for all your traditional Mexican cravings." After a beat of silence, the smile faltered and the brunette glanced at the wall by the doorframe, seemingly at Wade's house number and asked, "You… _did_ order food, right?" 

Wade cocked his head, staring suspiciously. 

{GIVE ME THE FOOD—} 

[What's wrong with him?] 

“Sir?” Brown eyes gazed up at him in further inquisition. “Did you order a delivery?”

[Is he broken? Brain damage? He's looking at you but maybe that's just practice, he's obviously blind—] 

{He is _gorgeous!_ Baby doe eyes, cutest little kitty we ever did see, oh! We could, _gasp,_ share our tacos!}

[Not everything is about food, fucking hell—]

Wade increased the power of his suspicious staring. White was right, something had to be wrong with him. Maybe if he stared hard enough he could figure out where the flaw was. This was the most understated reaction Wade had ever gotten from anyone upon first seeing his face without a mask. If nothing else, most people were shocked at how his skin was constantly shifting. This man had smiled at him! Brightly. That just never happened. 

{Okay, but it was a cute smile—} 

[The appeal of the smile is _not_ relevant here—] 

{I beg to differ, good sir—} 

[Stop it!] 

“Uh, okay, then," Brown Eyes nodded at him sharply. "I guess I’ll just assume I got the wrong house.” The delivery guy stepped back, eyes darting back to the house number in visible confusion before he leaned down to grab the bags of food off the porch. He flashed another beaming smile toward Wade as he stood back up. “Sorry about that, man. Have a good night!”

He then began to walk away. 

{Noooo!! YOU CAN’T LET THE FOOD LEAVE!} 

“No, wait!” Yellow’s panic pushed Wade to call out. He _paid_ for food and for once no one ran screaming and he was hungry, dammit! 

Brown Eyes swung back around, the food balanced between one arm and his right hip as his eyes took in Wade's face _again_ without a trace of fear or unease. “Yeah?”

“Sorry about that," Wade blurted out. This would be embarrassing to admit, but he went ahead and confessed, "It _is_ my food, you just… surprised me.”

Brown eyes’ smile turned a little wry but he still stepped up, offering the bags. “Okay. Well, here’s your food.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small clipboard. “I just need you to sign this.”

Yellow sighed quietly, almost like a lovesick teenager, {Isn't he just beautiful?}

[Oh no, no, you _will not—_ ] 

{I wanna fall in love with him already—} 

White was reduced to apoplectic screaming and Wade flinched at the volume, gaining him a look of concern from his pretty delivery boy. Wade tried to smile at him, quickly letting his pathetic excuse of a smile fall because he didn't want to scare him, before reaching out for the board and grabbing the pen that Brown Eyes offered him with it. “No problem.”

He scribbled some random loops on the line and almost handed it back when Yellow screamed so loud Wade almost smacked the hand reaching out to grab it. 

{NO, YOU NEED TO TIP!! _Just give him all the money in your wallet!}_

[Don’t do that.]

{ _All of it! Especially the ones! Make it rai—_ } 

[Twenty percent—] 

{SIXTY—} 

[Forty! And only if you shut the hell up—] 

Wade hastily counted out forty dollars in fives and handed the folded bills to his delivery guy. Forty was good. Twice the recommended tipping! Surely, he would come back for that—

{HA! I mean, I _hope so_ but have you _seen_ us? No way he's coming back—} 

[—when we look like a half baked deep fried potato that the cooks forgot to peel.] 

“Sorry for the… ah— you know?” Wade decided to tack on. After all, if this guy wasn’t scared away because of his face yet, then he certainly would be by his manners. As subtly as he could manage, Wade flexed a little in an attempt to look sexy. He was well aware of the failure, even without the boxes' input, but the delivery guy's pretty brown eyes did catch in the motion of his biceps and Wade was counting that as a _win._

“Uh, sure,” the delivery guy quirked his lips, taking a second to speak up again after making Wade's boxes melt into puddles of ink. “I suppose most people who order food this late into the evening are a bit out of it. I had one guy think I was his girlfriend at the door and confess his love to me in nothing but whipped cream,” his smile faltered a little, eyes widening. “You probably didn’t want to hear that, but— ah, _my point is_ ," he clarified awkwardly, "Your reaction to a knock on the door was far from the strangest I’ve ever gotten.”

Wade’s head tilted to the side, and he could practically hear the brain matter dribble from his ear canal as he imagined so many delivery payperviews with a similar premise, but now starring his new delivery driver. “Huh. Can’t imagine someone doing that accidentally.”

The delivery man laughed. “I know, right?”

[Good thing that one went over his head.]

{We need to buy whipped cream. Stat.}

[You know you're drooling, right?]

“Shit!” Wade promptly slammed the door in the food carrier’s startled face. 

[Yeah. He’s definitely not coming back.]

Wade swiped the back of his hand hastily over his chin, just to realize he actually wasn’t drooling, thank you very much. 

{Why the hell did you go and do that?}

[Consider it my good deed for the day. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.]

Wade was too busy staring at the pen still in his hands. On one hand, that would be a really good reason to open the door again and apologize, if the guy was still there. On the other–

[What grown man chews on the end of his pen? That’s disgusting.]

Yeah. Like hell Wade was actually going to open the door to return it to him. It wasn’t like he was going to come back anyway. Might as well keep a little momento to remember him by. 

{Lick it.}

“Shut up.”

# 2.

_The second time was also in front of Wade's house, but he read the assigned delivery man's name on the app and saw the camera in the passenger seat and jokingly asked if the guy was Spidey's photographer. And... it turned out he was. So Wade may have lost a little hope because if the guy had a hard on for Spidey, Wade didn't stand a chance._

When Wade opened the door for delivery from La Casa Morada a few days later, he was more than a little shocked to see the same delivery guy from last time. “Wow, you came back!” It tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it. 

[This is a milestone.]

{OMG!! Our pretty brown eyed puppy is here... The big tip must have worked, woooooo! _I knew I was right about the money!}_

“Um, yeah. Food delivery is kinda my job. It would be hard to keep it if I didn’t deliver your food.” The guy looked at him with this crooked little grin that both questioned Wade’s sanity, while also setting his heart ablaze, before handing over the bill for the food. “Here’s the damage. Sign the bottom, and I can get out of your hair.”

Wade nodded enthusiastically, snatching another pen from the breast pocket of the worker uniform, hand freezing as he read the name tag pinned right beneath his thumb. 

_Peter Parker_

{Hey, haven’t we heard that name before?! Maybe we know him!}

Wade narrowed his eyes at the tag, frozen in place as he searched his memories. He certainly never remembered seeing Peter’s face before. He would definitely remember that sweet little smile. 

[You know, it might not be kismet. If we have heard his name before, us, _Mercenaries,_ then there is a very good chance he doesn’t run in the right circles.]

{Oh, eat my ass. You can’t tell me that sweet little puppy has actually killed someone before.}

[Looks can be deceiving. All I’m saying is be careful.]

{Yes, _MOM!_ }

“Uh… are you going to take the pen out of my pocket, or do you need help? I kinda have another delivery,” The younger man said, looking slightly weirded out at Wade’s thirty second long hesitation. 

Wade let his gaze drift back up to meet Peter’s eyes, pasting on a smile. “I just recognize your name. I can’t seem to place it?” 

[Because that’s subtle.]

{It’s fine, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater won’t get it. He’s a sweetie!} 

[What does being sweet have to do with anything? We can be sweet and we’re definitely a killer!]

{AHAHAHA. But we don't have eyes like _that.}_

[What the fuck do eyes have to do with anything—] 

The referenced pretty brown doe eyes blinked up at him a total of three times before Wade’s cute delivery guy tilted his head to the thoughtfully and shrugged one shoulder a little awkwardly. 

"Umm… the name on your card is Wade Wilson, right? Deadpool? I mean, I'm an intern for Tony Stark so I figure if you know me from anywhere—" 

"Oh no!" Wade frowned deeply with commiserating sadness at his cute little Petey. "You work for Iron Dick. God, that sounds _terrible."_

_{EUUUGHHHH. HORRIFYING.}_

[You're missing the goddamn point, guys! That's not where we know that name from! We've never met Stark's interns!] 

Wade took the pen, signing distractedly in a childlike scribble as he stared at the nametag with a growing sense of frustration. Then he noticed the camera hanging around Peter's neck. 

Peter snorted and started to defend Tin Can, but Wade was too distracted by White and Yellow to hear his words. 

[A photographer. Maybe we read his name somewhere—] 

{Ha, wouldn't it be funny if we saw his pictures—} 

Wade beamed at Peter, interrupting him with an impressed, "Are you a photographer? Oh! Have you done anything I might have seen?" 

Peter's shoulders fell as a small grimace spread over his face, and he hesitantly asked, "Do you… do you read the Daily Bugle?" 

[Oh.] 

{THAT "NEWS" PAPER IS FULL OF SHIT—} 

Wade stiffened and tried not to scowl, "The Daily— no! I do not _read_ that garbage paper that keeps smearing my Spidey. I steal copies solely for the pictures— _OH MY GOD."_ Wade stared at Peter in disbelief and awe as he realized where he recognized the name. "Peter Parker. _Spider-Man's_ photographer, Peter Parker. Holy shit, you're Peter fucking Parker." 

Parker stared at him at a loss for all of half a second before bursting into tiny giggles that had Wade ducking to get his food before the cute brunette could drop it in his amusement. "Peter- ha _—_ Peter _fucking_ Parker." Doe eyes met Wade’s with a shining look of hilarity and Peter was a little out of breath but grinning when he said, "No one's ever described me that way before. Or fangirled over me." His gaze drifted to the left when he said that, and Wade knew it was a lie, but it was fair to assume that someone would be embarrassed that people remembered him for the way he captured a hero's ass so _perfectly—_

[This is not good.] 

{What do you mean! He's Spidey's photographer! This is perfect! We have an in—} 

[Spider-Man doesn't allow any other photographer get pictures of him. Ever. No one gets good shots the way this Parker kid does. You think they're just friends? With the way he gets his ass defined in the shots? Grow up. They're dating. I fucking _knew_ he was too good to be true.] 

Yellow seemed to shrink into the recesses of Wade's mind with a quiet whisper. {No… but… but Spidey wasn't dating anyone.} 

[As if he would tell a _murderer_ about his personal life.] 

Wade laughed. It was a high, doctored laugh that rang hollow and false but he couldn't help it. Hastily, he shoved the signed receipt copy into Peter's shirt pocket and made a quick, desperate grab for his food. His words were spit out at a rapid fire pace as he felt his mood deteriorating by the second. "Haha! _Ha,_ yeah, no, you know. I'm totes your biggest fan, mmkay, talk to you next time, see ya, bye." 

He could see, for a split second, the confusion sinking into the depths of Peter's eyes. Wade slammed the door in his face before he could get a word out and slid down the surface of his door in an instant flood of regret. 

There was a brief second of quiet and then— 

{You forgot to _tip him._ } 

[You kept his pen. _Again._ ] 

Wade sighed tiredly and wished he was better at being a normal person, or at least pretending. He set his bag of tacos, chips, and salsa on the ground and twirled the pen in his hand as he felt sorry for himself. 

If Peter was dating _Spider-Man,_ then Wade didn't stand a chance in hell with him. Wade wasn't a hero, he wasn't attractive the way Webs _had_ to be beneath the mask. Wade would never be good the way Spidey was. 

{Okay, but next time REMEMBER TO FUCKING _TIP HIM AND MAYBE YOU'LL HAVE A CHANCE—_ } 

[Ha! As if he's coming back after _that_ shitshow.]

Wade dug into his bag of food right there on his wood floor and bit mournfully into a taco. Comfort food was good. Tacos were _always_ the solution. 

{But… he came back _last_ time and we did slam the door before…} 

[Chances are he just came back because the tip was good.] 

Wade snorted mid bite. No one _else_ came back for the tip. 

{That's because no one else stayed long enough to get one.} 

Wade blinked. And then thoughtfully swallowed around his bite of food. That was true. Peter did refrain from running or leaving as soon as physically possible after seeing him, even before any tip came into play. 

[No, no. _Stop._ Stop hoping for shit that isn't gonna happen! Why are you like this—] 

{WE HAVE A CHANCE—} 

Wade felt slightly less negative about the entire ordeal at around taco number five and came to a Very Important™ life decision. 

If Peter _did_ come back to deliver to him, it was obviously a fucking sign from God or Zeus or whoever the hell was in charge that Wade best get to wooing before Spidey officially beat him to the punch. Wade wasn't gonna let Spidey, top tier hero, take this from him. It was bad enough that Wade had nursed a crush on the Webhead for years that had gone nowhere, he just had to be connected to Big Crush The Second, too? No. No way. If Peter didn't hate him yet, Wade would remember to tip him _and_ give him the pens back next time. Hopefully, he wouldn't embarrass himself too much and he could actually ask for Peter's phone number with some confidence and swagger. Maybe he could even wear his fancy suit. 

The rest of the day was spent on deciding which suit was best and which one would be overkill and arguing with the boxes about whether or not overkill was justified in this instance. He _would_ get the courage to ask Peter out. 

At some point. 

It didn't matter what White said; Peter didn't run from his face and he was _obviously_ a keeper. 

  
  


# 3.

_But then Peter was assigned for his delivery a third time in under two months and that was it! This was obviously fate! Wade was going to marry this guy, it was decided._

Wade anxiously waited by the door for his delivery to arrive. It _had_ been forty-five minutes, after all. 

[All of which you've wasted by standing here like a moron.] 

{Is he coming? Is he here yet? Do we look okay, put on some more cologne, how can we be sure he'll smell it—} 

[He will smell it because he _has a nose._ We don't need to drown ourselves in perfume, and stop lying to yourself: it's not cologne and you _know_ it, for someone to pick up on it. Do you _want_ him to cry from how strong it is?] 

Wade grinned when he heard the delivery car coming up with the typical ratty engine sounds that indicated it was in dire need of some maintenance. He was honestly a little worried about Peter's safety in the driver's seat of that thing, but his concern was heavily outweighed by the excitement he felt when he peaked out the small space between his curtains and saw that Brown Eyes had returned a _third_ _time._

[So he's obviously crazy. I don't know if you've noticed, but you have a type.] 

{Do _not insult our SPECIAL BOY—}_

Wade disregarded the boxes, aware of the coming argument, but far too pleased to care about it as he shifted from foot to foot, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks as he waited for Peter to make his way up Wade's lawn. He didn't want to look too _eager._

White audibly snorted. [Right. Because everyone in a shitty, dilapidated neighborhood orders Mexican takeout while lounging around in a suit and perfume. Desperate much?] 

{Okay, but do you have to be so _rude_ about it? _I_ think we look dashing—}

There was another audible snort and Wade could feel the imminent screech Yellow was preparing to unleash, but then finally, _finally,_ there was a knock on the door. 

Wade reached out and started to turn the door knob when Yellow snapped out of his personal fight to berate Wade. 

{NO, YOU HAVE TO WAIT AT LEAST FIVE SECONDS—} 

Wade snatched his hand back like he'd been scalded and White groaned and argued, [He probably saw the knob turning, you can't stop now—] 

Wade reached out again with lightning speed and then—

{But he's going to _know we were waiting-}_

[Yeah, like anyone who orders food and was given an expected wait time, calm your tits—] 

{WE ARE A MAN—} 

[The tits part is still applicable—] 

{The fact that we like dresses _does not mean—}_

Annoyed at the back and forth, Wade flung the door open and flinched when it slammed against the inner wall of his house. 

{No! You swung too hard! That's _embarrassing—_ } 

[Wow. You can't do _anything_.] 

Wade took hold of the door before it could swing shut in Peter's face and he grinned at his gorgeous and _favorite_ delivery man. 

"Heya, Pretty Boy," Wade greeted. Today was a Good Skin Day™. His skin was still shifting, but the cancer was going through a small recession period, something that only happened when Wade stayed extremely hydrated and well fed, which meant he only had more excuses to order food from his favored New York City Mexican establishment. The point was that there were no open sores, no visible muscle tissue, no bare bones. If anything, Wade was beaming because he looked like a slightly bumpy Ryan Reynolds and it was the closest he'd gotten in _months_ to looking like his old self, minus the hair. _God,_ he missed the hair. 

Peter stared at him for a moment lips slightly parted and Wade briefly entertained the idea of throwing caution to the wind and kissing him, but then Peter blinked and scowled. "I'm not pretty. And I am an _adult."_

{So. Fucking. Cute. Can we keep him? Cuddle him? Goddammit, let me _have the squishy—}_

[He is not a miniature jellyfish. He is a _human being—_ ] 

{And that's relevant because…?} 

[How immature and irrational are you dead set on being—] 

Wade leaned against his doorway, mock seductively. An amused smile grew on Peter's face that kept twitching as he tried to force it down and Wade grinned as he met his eyes and nodded. "Mm-kay, sure, not pretty or a boy." He paused, watching a puzzled expression make its way onto that adorable face until he added, "The most _beautiful_ man I've ever met." 

{AHHHHHHHH!!} 

[Smooth. Not at all creepy.] 

Dark brown eyes blinked once. Twice. And then they darted down and to the side and Peter wasn't looking at him anymore, but a heavy blush was spreading down his neck and Wade. Was. _Melting._

They spoke over each other in the next second, voices blending together with the words: 

"Beautiful is a strong word." 

"That's it, I'm gonna marry you." 

There was dead silence as brown eyes went wider than Wade had ever seen them and then— 

"What?" 

Wade froze in place against his door frame, all seductive intentions gone from his posture.

[Yeah, fucking _what?_ ] 

{Yeah, that's valid—}

[ _VALID? YOU THINK THAT WAS VALID?_ ] 

{He came back _twice—_ } 

"I, uh, ahem," Wade started, clearing his throat and stalling for something to say because _dear God, he said that out loud._ "I said I'm gonna, umm, _dairy_ you. As in offer you some milk. For the… calcium?" 

[Kill. Me. Right. Here.] 

{Oh God, you are _the worst—_ } 

It wasn't a _good_ excuse, but Wade didn't see either of the boxes coming up with any bright ideas on such short notice and it was the best Wade could do without help or travelling back in time to tape his mouth shut _._

Pretty boy Petey squinted at him suspiciously and if Wade's stomach wasn't tied up in knots, he would have squealed about how cute that was, but as it stood Yellow had to do that for him. "I don't _need_ calcium," Peter assured him, expression falling back into that deadpan every day _done_ face that anyone in retail or food service mastered eventually. There was a hint of curiosity in his gaze, but Wade ignored it because he couldn't think of a joke and jokes were his go-to coping mechanism. 

[You're just about useless without them, but then you fuck everything up when you use them—] 

{HEY! We tell good jokes!} 

[Define good-] 

Peter continued speaking, oblivious to Wade's internal panic, and offered him the clipboard with one hand. "And anyway, I need to get back to work. I've got two more deliveries after this, so go ahead and sign for me?" 

He struggled to balance the food on one knee but managed and Wade was very impressed at the display of muscle control. 

{So if you could just bring that muscle control up to our face, that would be-}

[BE CLASSY, YOU HALFWIT-] 

{Oof. Are you my other half-?} 

Wade tried tuning out White's rage and signed Peter's copy of the receipt with a nervous smile and a smug, "Maybe you do need calcium. I have milk. I could make hot chocolate? Cookies? I'll give you a taco?" 

The corner of Peter's mouth turned up a fragment of a centimeter and he said, "Not that I don't love cookies. Enough to _marry_ them even, but I do have work to get back to." He let a genuine smile grace his features at the deer-caught-in-headlights look on Wade's face _,_ and added, "So how about you just give me back the pens you keep holding onto, I give you your food, and then see you next week when you order the exact same thing?" 

{Is he calling us out? Ouch. You know, I came out to have fun and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now-} 

[He's onto your shit and he's still here and saying he'll be back. Either he's batshit insane or you belong together.] 

Wade pulled two pens out of his back pocket and slipped the complete set of three in Peter's chest pocket with a grin. "Glad you noticed, I was wondering whether or not your take out place had unlimited office supplies." 

Peter rolled his eyes but- 

{Is that a _fond_ smile? That looks like a fond smile-} 

[Nonsense-] 

It was _definitely_ a fond smile and Wade was _living for it_ as he took hold of his food and listened to Peter say, "See you around, Wade." 

Wade caught the tail end of a wistful expression on Peter’s face before he looked back up at Wade and waved at him, a slight tinge of pink still painting his skin, and Wade stared after his ass as he turned and walked away. 

He sighed dreamily once he managed to force himself to close the door. 

[So.] 

{So…?} 

[How long do you think it'll be before he notices the fifty dollars in his shirt pocket?] 

Yellow cackled with unrestrained laughter and Wade carefully set aside his food on the coffee table before throwing himself face first onto his couch. _Dairy._ What had he been _thinking?_ Of course the guy didn't want to stay for cookies. Wade groaned mournfully into one of his cushions, breathed in and out a few times, and then dragged himself into a semi seated position to eat his favorite tacos. Next time. He would get Peter's phone number next time. 

The suit had evidently been the wrong choice for Mission Confidence. It was time to bring out the _big guns._ Wade needed to bring out his Moulin Rouge cosplay dress. 

# 4\. 

_The fourth time Wade saw Peter Parker, he tried his hardest to get the man to agree to a date. Wore his sexiest dress (over his suit, of course) cleaned up all the trash in his living room so Peter didn’t have to see it when he dropped off the food, and offered the man his phone number._

_It didn’t work. That was okay, though! Fifth time’s the charm, maybe?_

[I don’t know if wearing the dress _over_ our suit is really the right choice here.]

Wade angled his body to the side, examining the lay of the skirt against his suit legs in the mirror. It looked fine!

{Especially dem man tiddies!}

[Man- what now? They're not even _visible_ because you're wearing the fucking suit!]

Wade rolled his eyes. It was a nice, vibrant red and black suit, brand new, with the ruffly edge of the dress along the thigh; even the low neckline of the dress, while completely purposeless with the suit underneath, really brought attention to his broad shoulders and muscled arms. It looked fantastic! 

{Of course it does, we look best with no skin showing!}

[But he’s already seen the skin and he didn’t care! This is unnecessary and sweaty-]

{Well, we cleaned the apartment! Isn’t that basically the same thing? We made it look nicer so hopefully he’ll like us enough to accept our number and go on a date with us! And we look so much nicer in the suit. Also no, he has _not_ seen our skin, not like this.}

Wade ignored the bickering and headed back out into the living room. It didn’t matter, anyway. He wasn’t going to take off the suit, not on a Bad Skin Day™. He wanted to give Peter his phone number and no way he would say yes when Wade had muscle showing through on his jawline and half of his ear missing!

[You know wearing the suit will just make it worse. The ear will take twice as long to grow back, you idiot.]

{Whatever, we’ll take it off later!}

Wade knew White’s dire predictions were right, but it really didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to not call for delivery, he didn’t want Peter to think he didn’t want to see him! But there was also no way Peter could see his skin like this and not puke. Wade couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror like this without feeling nauseous and he had more Bad Skin Days™ than good ones. His previous encounters with Peter had been pure dumb luck. The suit really was the only way to go. 

Besides! Wade was wearing his favorite dress! It was a sweetheart neckline with off-the-shoulder lace straps in crimson red, the lace ending elegantly over the top of his soft corset. The corset itself ended just over his hips, with another artful application of blood red lace and small beads that added to the innocent vibes of the dress in spite of the fact that in wasn’t even long enough to reach his knees. It was a nice white from the waist down, though, with flared out chantilly lace that shone almost like snow with the layers and really made his tight suit and high heels stand out. 

{Enough with the introspection, he’s going to be here soon!}

[What exactly are we supposed to do other than think? Lounge around in our underwear? Oh wait. You ruined that opportunity.]

{We look stunning! Shut the fuck-TV! Oh, wait, no! The tip, we gotta get the tip and have it ready and waiting so we can pull it out of our bra to hand it to him. Bra money is the best! Maybe he’ll notice how hot we are if we flash him some tiddy?}

White set to nearly indecipherable muttering about the stupidity of man, ' _breasts, not tiddies,'_ and showing off what is literally nothing but some muscle covered in a suit, a bra, _and_ a dress: three distinct layers of useless clothing. 

[There isn't even anything actually worth showing off!]

Wade figured Yellow was probably right, though. Even the suggestion of breasts had most men’s eyes glued to a woman’s chest. Slipping money out of his bra should have Peter’s eyes riveted. He nodded to himself. This _had_ to be the right choice. 

He grabbed the money he had set out on the coffee table early, cramming it down his top, before he started pacing around the couch, half listening to the boxes bicker. They weren’t saying anything new or interesting, but he never managed to tune them out completely. Wade supposed that at least it was better than being alone with nothing but his thoughts while he waited for the (probable) love of his life to arrive with his food. Introspection and waiting was so hard!

The passing thought pulled the boxes out of their bickering and, unfortunately, back to focusing on Wade as White scoffed. 

[Love of your life? He’s twink material, for certain. A regular fling of the week, but we’ve only had two short conversations with him! What the fuck do you mean, 'love of your-']

{We’re going to marry him!}

[It’s a crush! A whim! A _phase!_ ]

{NO!! HE’S PERFECTION! NIRVANA! THE PINNACLE OF HUMAN EVOLUTION-}

[Oh, you _imbecile_.]

{You shut your filthy mouth-}

Wade sighed in relief when the knock on the door shut them both up, riveting their attention on the door and the man who was probably on the other side. He hurried over to grab the door, glad that this time he remembered to not stand and wait right in front of the door, and flung it open. 

Of course it hit the wall with a bang. Peter twitched sharply and clutched the bags close in an obvious deathgrip, his knuckles turning white. 

“Oops, sorry,” Wade half laughed. He was nervous and hopeful and a flurry of emotions that were distracting enough without the part where he almost knocked over his new crush. “That was an accident, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

[Smooth.] 

{And what would _you_ suggest we say, then, Casanova?} Yellow grumbled sarcastically. {A poem? Do you have any Shakespeare on hand?}

Peter let out a breathy laugh, relaxing his grip and holding the bags out. “It’s okay! It happens to the best of…" 

He trailed off as he looked at Wade. 

Hastily, the merc placed one skin-tight-leather-clad leg in front of the other. He was wearing his favorite pair of black heels, the ones with the red soles that made his legs look _amazing_. He puffed out his chest, intent on showing off the corset portion of the dress, but Peter didn't look back up for that. No, his mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes were locked on the hem of Wade's dress, the part that brushed just over the middle of his thighs. 

{Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmyfuck! It's working- _it's working!!!!!_ } 

[Finally! Someone who isn't a boob man! Look at that? See that stare? That is a thigh man! Thighs!] 

{White. Are you kinkier than I thought-} 

[What- no! I'm just sick of both of your obsession with-] 

{Because it almost sounded like you were excited for a second-} 

Wade grinned widely at the attention, leaning with one shoulder pressed against his door frame, crossing his arms to emphasize the look of his chest, and he snapped his fingers. Once. 

His voices went quiet with anticipation and Peter's eyes snapped up to his mask, a touch of pink making its way down the guy's neck, red blossoming on the tips of his ears. "Us!" Peter shouted, glancing away from him as his grip tightened on the bag of food. "It happens to the best of us," he squeaked once more, his voice going too low in his effort to appear unaffected and resulting a precious high breaking pitch that revealed all. 

[He's embarrassed. He can't even talk properly! I told you this was overkill and unnecessary- look at what you did! He's a _mess-_ ] 

{And we like our meals messy. I fail to see the problem here-} 

[You. Have. No. Class.] 

{I'm disgusting, yes, we've established this. Now let's move on to the _tasty_ part-}

[There will be no tasting! Nothing. Real food only! Fucking hell, he can't even make eye contact anymore. You had _one job._ ] 

Wade kept smiling as he took a few steps forward, swaying his hips slightly from side to side, the short flair of the skirt gliding around his thighs as Peter looked at the ground, at the wall, at the _bushes_ \-- a lovely shade of red adorning his features. 

"I'm sure it does," Wade conceded, reaching out to fix Peter's popped collar with a graceful motion of his hand. 

{Gasp! Daring! I love it- do it again!}

[He already fixed it, he can't get away with the same trick in the same visit! Have you learned _nothing_ this entire time?] 

{If it works, it works-} 

Peter's eyes finally snapped back up to meet his gaze with the most deer-in-the-headlights look that Wade ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

"It- yes," Peter agreed, his eyes fixated on a point just above Wade's head as if the mercenary wouldn't notice. 

[Holy shit the second hand embarrassment is _real._ Does he even know what he's saying yes to?]

{Nope. He's an adorable bean, he has no idea. He's agreeing with bae-} 

[We are _not_ bae-] 

"Yes, what?" Wade asked with a small smile, bringing one hand up against his throat and just gliding the tips of his fingers absently against his collarbone. 

Peter's gaze naturally followed his hand and the red blush over his cheeks intensified as he swallowed on nothing and stuttered, "Yes… I don't- I don't remember." 

Wade stifled a chuckle into his hand and Peter seemed to reboot at the sound, standing taller, squaring his shoulders and holding out his clipboard and pen. Wade visibly deflated when he heard the professional, "Please sign here for your order." 

[How do you keep fucking this up? How does someone actually manage to ruin their chances this often-?]

{Wait, no! No, everything was going so well! What did we do wrong!?} 

[You laughed at him.] 

{BECAUSE HE'S ADORABLE, NOT BECAUSE IT WAS FUNNY-} 

[Well that's not what it looked like _to him-_ ] 

Wade signed, his signature tilting too far to the right that the letters looked thinner and sharper and as despondent as he felt. 

He handed back the clipboard and the pen and Peter glared at the ground as his stomach made a loud noise and he handed over the food. 

[Wow. I'm just- nature is amazing.] 

{Fuck you, White! This isn't the discovery channel! This is _serious-_ }

[I'm not the one who fucked up, I'm getting my fun out of this regardless of the outcome-] 

Wade tried to brush off the negative atmosphere with a bright smile as he took hold of his food. His hand brushed against Peter's and for a second, Wade hoped that meant something, but Peter immediately pulled his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. 

"Umm, Baby Boy, I was wondering if I could get your-" 

Peter scoffed, a wounded look crossing his pretty features that Wade hated seeing because he _hadn't meant to laugh,_ he honestly hadn't. Still, Peter didn't let him finish his question, turning on his heel with a muttered, "Enjoy your meal." 

Wade watched the object of his affections get in the car and drive off without another word. 

He told himself it was fine. It was just a minor setback. In any case, it didn't look like Peter wasn't interested. He was just offended that Wade would laugh at his interest. That was all. 

{Yeah!} Yellow agreed cheerfully. {We'll get him next time!} 

White groaned at their renewed positivity. 

[Right], he muttered. [Of course. I'm stuck with two bricks that have no clue when to give up.] 

# 5\. 

_The fifth time, Wade ordered twice as much food as usual and gave half to Peter because he thought the guy could use some more food and he caught his cutie staring mournfully at the food once, so Wade figured he could write his number in sharpie on the bag and hope for the best. He didn't get a call from Peter, which saddened him, but Spidey texted him with the message: you're a good guy, DP. Thanks. Which depressed Wade even further because that probably meant that both his old crush and his new crush were definitely dating if Spidey knew about Deadpool giving Petey food._

It was Delivery Number Five and Wade was grasping at straws to come up with an idea to get Peter to agree to a date with him. 

[Food.] 

{Don't be ridiculous, that only works on us-} 

[You're absolute morons. Literally every time he shows up his eyes linger on the food, last time he was so hungry his stomach actually growled as he handed it over. How much more evidence _do you need?_ He's hungry. Feed him. Kitten 101.] 

{ _KITTEN 101!_ } Yellow gasped. {Oh my God, that's precious-} 

Wade stared at the app. On his best days, he could eat around sixteen tacos in one go. It stood to reason that a normal person could eat that many within a couple days instead of a single sitting. 

[No! You order enough extra for one meal- not leftovers! That's too much-] 

{Hungry bois deserve hungry boi food!} 

Wade agreed. Even if Petey _didn't_ want to date him… Wade still wanted him to be happy and healthy and well fed. He went ahead and ordered thirty-two tacos. Sixteen carne asada and sixteen chicken, hoping against all hope that Peter hadn't finally decided to quit like the rest of the people in his long line of ex-delivery-people. 

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock at his door and Wade thanked every deity out there that today was a Good Skin Day™. 

He gripped the doorknob nervously. 

[I can't believe you're doing this.] 

{Did you remember the sharpie? Should we wash our face a couple more times just in case? What if it's _not_ a good skin day? What if we start hallucinating in the middle of a conversation and ruin everything-}

[He came back. You legitimately need to chill. If he came back after last time, there is nothing you can possibly do- short of shitting in his car- that will get rid of him permanently.] 

Wade breathed in a couple times to prepare himself. Yellow often grew insecure when he was nervous and Wade couldn't afford to feel insecure. Today was the day he would ask Peter out! He swore on it! 

He opened the door with a bright smile that dimmed when he caught the puzzled expression on Peter's face. 

"You know, usually you order sixteen. I figured maybe you just had a fast metabolism or stored them in the fridge for the week, but you ordered thirty-two and unless you're throwing a party or something," he squinted over Wade's shoulder and looked distinctly unsurprised by the lack of party guests. "I feel like I should hold an intervention for you to talk about how unhealthy this is-" 

"Wait. Wait, did you say _thirty-two?_ No," Wade denied, shaking his head slowly. "I ordered sixteen." 

Peter squinted at him and pulled out a receipt. 

[Nice performance there. Oscar worthy. I await your nomination with bated breath.] 

{If you could lay off on the snark for a second, that would be _magnificent_. Thank you.} 

"It _says_ you ordered thirty-two," Peter insisted. "Did you order twice by accident? I guess Gina might have just combined the orders then, but usually she would give me a separate receipt-" 

Wade nodded and snapped his fingers and White groaned at the over-the-top acting. "You know what? I tried to cancel an earlier order because I had to go out for a minute- had to drop something off at the post office- but then I typed it in again when I got home. _Maybe_ it went through twice?" 

[As if he's going to _believe_ -] 

Peter stared at him. Wade smiled innocently. 

Peter shrugged and took out his small clipboard along with the accusingly singular receipt and a pen, and he crossed out Wade's order of thirty-two and wrote sixteen beneath it. “There. If you didn’t mean to order it, then you don’t have to pay for it. I'll bring it up to the boss and she'll wave half the charge." 

[He believed it. Is he honestly that gullible-] 

{He's perfect and he obviously has a soft spot for us-} 

Wade blinked a single time and then waved his hands frantically, practically shouting, "No! No, no, that's not what I want at all!" In the blink of an eye, he was shoving a wad of cash at Peter and insisting, "You can just take the extra home with you! No problem." 

Peter continued marking up the receipt with changes, ignoring the wad of money as he explained, "You already paid with card and I just need a signature, so that you can get back half your money-" 

{ _Just take our money!!!_ } 

Wade continued to try to hand over the bills in compensation for the fact that he'd tragically forgotten to take the tip from his bra during the previous delivery and several twenties fell to the ground in little spirals. 

[This gets more and more pathetic every time.] 

“It was my fault for being distracted and tech illiterate!" Wade blurted out in a panic. "You carried all this sh–stuff!" he corrected himself mid-sentence. "You carried all this _stuff_ up here, and your people cooked it-- not ‘ _your_ ’ people!" Wade shouted, blanching immediately when he realized how that sounded. "Not that they aren’t your people! They're totes your peeps! But, like, let me pay for the labor and food and… you can just keep the stuff I don’t eat, right? Like… you must be running around all day. Put some fuel in your tank.”

He genuinely felt bad, forcing Peter to drive out here all the time with what must have already been a busy schedule. Nervous and guilty, he darted forward with his sharpie to write his phone number on one of the available bags. This was accompanied by a rushed and shaky admittance of, "And here! You should call me because I really like you- yeah, okay? Okay, bye!" 

He ducked back into his apartment, his face flaming as he shut the door. 

["Shut" is a generous word.] 

{You. Slammed. The door. In. His. _Face._ } Yellow sounded absolutely _livid_ and Wade would have slid down the door in a puddle of regret, if not for the knock on the door after a minute of silence.

Wade did not answer the door. 

Finally, Peter just called out to him through the obstacle. "Umm. I- thank you? I don't know how- what I mean is… you're very good? You're very good, yes, shit. No, that's all wrong. What I _meant_ was…. You forgot your food," he finished lamely. 

[How the hell did you manage to find the one person in the world who is worse at this than you are? This is _painful._ ] 

{I want to _eat_ him. He's too cute. That's illegal.}

Wade took no less than four painfully awkward minutes to open the door again and frankly, he was shocked to see that Peter bothered waiting, standing there with the three bags, with the most awkward look in his eyes. 

"Umm," he began. 

[Wow. Graceful.] 

{Shut up! This is our moment!} 

Wade said nothing. There was nothing he could say that would explain his embarrassing behavior away, so all he could do was stand there and hope for the best. 

Peter peaked up at him and flashed a tiny smile his way before continuing. "My break is coming up and I can just take it early if you-" he paused, looked away and bit his bottom lip nervously. "Nevermind, it was stupid. Thank you for," he held up the bags of food wordlessly. "I'll just-" 

He couldn't even finish the sentence, just started hastily walking away. 

With the food.

[How many steps is it going to take him to notice? Oh wow, he's actually going to drive away with it, isn't he?] 

{At this point, I'm just happy our number is actually on one of the bags.} 

Wade waited, trying and failing to hide his amused grin as he watched Peter get all the way to his car, glance down at the food, and thump his head against the roof of said car before turning back, red-faced. 

He took quick strides back to Wade's doorstep, looking like he wanted someone to murder him on the spot, until Wade said, "I wouldn't mind if you took your break with me, Baby Boy." 

The soft look of appreciation he received? It made everything else he'd gone through worth the struggle. 

{He's _beautiful._ How dare he be that pretty. It's not _fair._ }

[Life isn't fair. Get used to it.] 

Thirty minutes went by far too quickly between jokes and taco bites and Wade was more convinced than ever that Peter was the perfect potential boyfriend. 

And then he froze up and started heading toward the door, with a quick, "I am so, so sorry- I forgot I told my Aunt I would see her today and she only has an hour lunch break at the hospital, but thank you for everything. I- I'll be back, I promise. I just have to go-" 

Wade chased after Peter with a bag of still-slightly-warm tacos and a racing heart. "No, wait! Don't forget the leftovers, it's for you! I got them _for you!"_

[Aaaaand there goes your Oscar. Hooray.] 

{Leo didn't get his award until _years_ after he actually deserved it-}

[Sarcasm. Fucking. Sarcasm. Goddammit, no one here deserves an Oscar, that was terrible.]

He managed to catch up to Peter just before he jumped into the car, and Peter took the bag with a grin and a smug, "I freaking _knew_ it," before he sped off. 

Wade didn't get a text from Peter that night. Instead, he got one from _Spidey._

**_Webs <3:_ ** _You're a good guy, DP. Thanks. See you soon._

Ordinarily, he loved talking to Spiderman. The problem was that Spiderman wasn't _Peter._ And if he already knew about Wade giving Peter food then his old crush and his new crush were _definitely_ dating and Wade… Wade thought it was a lot sadder to be used to the sensation of being brushed aside than it was to feel the emotion for the first time. 

# +1.

_Spidey brings food to a meet up for patrol with Deadpool and it's from the place that Peter Parker works. He didn’t realize he could fall for the same person twice._

Between all the nervous food orders, Wade still made time for Spidey. He wasn't a _complete_ stalker after all. He had been once, toward Spider-Man, but then the hero had a clear Talk™ with him about boundaries and respect and Wade _learned_ from that experience. Even if it had been mortifying at the time. Sometimes he still wished Webs hadn't caught him following him. Honestly, it wasn't Wade's fault! He just wanted to make sure the guy got home safe since he'd been injured and all. He hadn't realized how intrusive trying to follow the hero home at the time had been. 

[Imagine how bad it would have been if he'd realized you were fucked six ways to Sunday over him?] 

{Okay, but he _might_ have been receptive-} 

White snorted. And said nothing. Nothing else needed to be said on the matter. 

{FUCK. OFF.} 

Wade smiled in spite of the boxes' antics as Spidey swung up to there rooftop and tossed a bag to him. He caught it reflexively against his chest and- 

"Is this from _The Purple House_ , Ba- Spidey?" 

[You almost- wow. You're still not over him, are you?] 

{Did you just- BABY BOY IS PETEY-} 

Wade tried to keep smiling but he had a feeling his face was halfway a grimace beneath his mask and he could only hope that his best friend wouldn't notice. He was over Spider-Man, at least in that way. He was! 

[That's a fucking lie.] 

{But we have Petey now, so you need to _get over it-_ } 

[We don't have _anyone._ You can't just go claiming people that haven't agreed to have you stuck to their side like a bad stench-] 

{CAN FUCKING TOO-} 

Webs lifted his mask part way and _beamed_ at Wade. Just the widest damn smile, like he was so happy to see him. The boxes went disturbingly silent at the sight. 

"Your favorite," Webs said, tone light and mirthful as he sat beside Wade and bumped his shoulder with his own playfully. "Thirty-two tacos, sixteen chicken, sixteen carne asada." 

Wade blinked. "That's not my usual- how did you- _oh."_ Wade frowned then, "Petey said something?" 

He instantly bit his own tongue. The two of them were definitely a thing and here Wade was, calling Spiderman's boyfriend _Petey._

[Well. I guess they _are_ dating. Tough luck, big guy. Burn that bridge, walk away, move on.] 

{OR THEY'RE JUST FRIENDS. THAT IS ALSO A POSSIBILITY, ASSHOLE.} 

"Something like that," Spider-Man admitted. The wall crawler gave a small shrug and looked oddly tense, shoulders drawn up tight, torso stiff and a little too straight. He breathed in a couple times and then he said, "Hey, uh, Wade?" 

"Hmm?" Wade asked, digging into the bag and setting it between them as he munched on taco number one. Yum, beefy. The perfect comfort food. "You okay, Webs?" 

[This is it. This is where he says you're more trouble than you're worth.] 

{Positivity, darling, ever heard of it? Glass half full? There's a thousand metaphors for this-} 

[I'm a realist-] 

{The fuck you are-} 

Spidey nodded sharply, a nervous little laugh escaping him before he turned just a bit toward Wade on the roof ledge and grabbed Wade’s unoccupied hand. "I'm fine. I… I need to show you something?" He sounded so unsure of himself but then he nodded, squaring his shoulders, and decisively stated, "I'm going to show you something." 

"Are you sure?" Wade started, giving the other man’s stiff form a once over, "You don't seem sure- Spidey, no! _What are you doing!?"_

[WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WOULD HE WANT TO-] 

{WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM! _WHY WOULD YOU STOP HIM?_ } 

Wade's hand was over Spider-Man's mask in an instant, hands locked over spandex-gloved hands in a death grip, tacos tumbling to the ground in a sad, _sad_ waste of good shredded beef and chicken. Wade silently decided that he would replace them _after_ making sure Spidey hadn’t gone completely insane. 

"Wade," Webs murmured. "You're my best friend. And you're important to me and I trust you and I really think you should see this." Spidey held his hands in his own and gently pushed him back. 

"Spidey. You don't- you don't _have_ to do this. Hell, I _don't think you should!"_ Wade almost shifted away but he had the insane feeling that his _stubborn_ little hero was going to pull something drastic, so he stayed close, ready to force that mask to stay in bloody place if need be. "I'm literally the worst person to do this for- you've got the Avengers, you've got, I don't know? Friends? Peter! You have _Peter!"_

[I didn't think you'd be the sensible one here but color me bloody surprised. How _novel._ ] 

{LET HIM DO WHAT HE WANTS TO FUCKING DO-} 

Wade shook his head. No, he couldn't do this. It had taken him forever to get over his unexpected role model and he was still in that fragile position where the simplest touch could bring it all rushing back. He had avoided being too close for _months,_ trying to pretend he had simply learned some boundaries when it was actually painful to _not_ follow his gut reaction of hugging Spider-Man on the spot. Looking at the real person beneath the mask? Wade had been gone on him before; he didn't think he could handle it without spiraling down the rabbit hole and this time he might never come out. 

One hand settled over his own, fingers gently lacing themselves between his and Wade stared, trying to find the will to pull away and feeling a wave of despair as he failed. 

[This is what you wanted, isn't it?] 

Yes. No. It had been. 

{But… what about Peter?}

Maybe they _were_ just friends. Maybe Spider-Man gained feelings for him just as Wade put a bit of distance between them and it made his heart start racing as his thumb traced softly over the back of Wade's hand. He was so entranced by the sight of their hands together that he didn't notice Spidey's other hand coming up until it was too late. 

"Don't-" he started to protest, but words- they ceased to serve him. He forgot how to form a sentence, he forgot how to _think_ because the person staring back at him was beautiful, adorable, and completely _impossible._

Only the more he turned it over in his mind, the more it made sense. Peter Parker was the only photographer in New York that could get consistent, clear photographs of Spider-Man. He was the only civilian Spider-Man appeared to have any public contact with. Spidey was a hero, he was completely _selfless._

The entire basis of their original friendship rested upon the fact that Deadpool offered to buy him food in exchange for hero-ing lessons that then turned into patrol meet-ups and food nights that Wade often hurried to pay for before the hero could. It never occurred to him that perhaps Spider-Man just didn't have the money for all of that luxury and that he'd been going hungry since Wade started to keep him at a distance and suddenly he wanted to _die._

[He has no money and you cut off his reliable food supply. Holy shit, how does this keep happening to you? What the fuck.] 

{You. Starved. Him. Oh my God. Oh my God, it's him. It's both of them and he's holding our hand and-} 

Wade's grip on Peter's hand grew tight and he felt choked as he said, "Baby Boy, I am _so sorry-"_

Peter's confusion was audible when he asked, "What are you sorry for exactly?" 

"I didn't- I didn't know you were hungry, holy fuck, _I'm the actual worst."_

"Wade, no-" 

"I got away from you because I knew I didn't have a shot and now you're- Petey. Peter, you don't have to be close to me for food," Wade insisted. Fucking hell, the last thing he wanted was for Spidey to feel obligated to put out for a good meal or give up his break and come up with excuses like rushing off to see his Aunt to get away from him. "We're… friends," Wade added, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone. "You don't need to do anything for me-" 

[Wait, what does he thinks he's doing-] 

{ _Yesyesyes!_ } 

Wade froze as Peter's lips pressed softly against his cheek, the fabric of his mask the only barrier between them. His hand was squeezing Wade's hand just as tightly and even when he was done, he lingered in Wade's space like he belonged there, his shoulder pressed up against Wade's shoulder, their hands over his left thigh. 

"I'm not doing this for _food,_ Wade. Believe it or not, I do have an Aunt and a team of Avengers that would be happy to feed me if I asked. I just… I don't feel comfortable asking them and I never had to ask you and somewhere along the line I realized I liked the company more than the meals." He looked down at the alleyway far below their feet and quietly added, "Then you started pulling away and I thought you'd noticed my stupid crush or something. Except, do you know how jarring it is to have someone flirt with half of you but not the other half?" 

[He likes you. He actually genuinely likes you. What is _wrong_ with the world? Something catastrophic is going to happen, this has to be some kind of omen-] 

{He wants us. He _wants us. Do you understand the gravity of the situation. THIS IS EVERYTHING-_ } 

Wade laughed a little, it was either that or cry at the fact that he could have had this _earlier,_ but he had convinced himself that Spider-Man could never reciprocate his feelings and he'd stupidly fallen for _the same person twice._ "Didn't think you'd want me," Wade admitted, laughing harder as he added, "Tried my luck with this adorable guy but it was _you._ Again. God, that's embarrassing. You knew. No fucking shit, you didn't leave, you already knew me." 

He abruptly stopped laughing. Peter leaned a lot closer to him, reaching his free hand over to hook under Wade's mask. Wade latched his free hand around Peter's wrist in an instant, halting all movement as Peter looked at him with unfiltered _hope_ in his eyes. 

[You wanted this. This is exactly what you wanted. What is the goddamn problem?] 

{He's seen it already}, Yellow reminded him gently. 

Wade breathed in a couple times, his shoulders tense. He squeezed Peter's hand once, bit the inside of his cheek, and he let go of his wrist, his hand falling to the ledge of the building and gripping the concrete tightly. 

Peter didn't move for a long moment. 

When he did, it was to lean even closer, foreheads pressed together as Peter's eyes fell shut and he murmured, "I want to kiss you. I've wanted to for a while and didn't want to start anything before you knew who I was, but- Wade, can I-? Can I please, _please_ kiss you-" 

Wade lifted his mask himself. He was terrified. Peter had seen him enough times, and it wasn't even a bad day for him, but he'd never been observed up close by someone that actually _mattered._ He wanted to run and hide, but Peter was still holding his hand and Wade surged forward with bravery he didn't actually have, kissing Peter almost desperately, like he needed him to breathe, as if he'd never get another chance to. 

And Peter… Peter kissed him back.


End file.
